Davis Lost in Transition

8 Steps to Navigating Change
1. Auflage 2018
ISBN: 978-1-7328057-1-2
Verlag: BookBaby
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM (»Systemvoraussetzungen)

E-Book, Englisch, 278 Seiten

Exploring the underlying and universal pattern in which change inevitably happens in life, Lost in Transition is a must-have book. Lost in transition is an inspirational, relevant and valuable guide for coping with and managing change. This self-help book takes you on an eye-opening journey through the three stages of transition and lays a course for successfully navigating each phase with clarity and understanding. Providing a beautiful, thought-provoking roadmap for the reader, Lost in Transition explains how each stage in the three-phase change process of endings, the neutral zone of the in-between, and launching anew can be understood and embraced.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Davis, Barbara

Leseproben

CHAPTER 1 TRANSITION AND CHANGE ARE DIFFERENT
“When she transformed into a butterfly, the caterpillars spoke not of her beauty, but of her weirdness. They wanted her to change back into what she always had been. But she had wings.”  ? Dean Jackson STEP 1: “KNOW” THEY’RE NOT THE SAME Springtime is a melting pot for things in transition. All of nature goes from death to life in a few short weeks. It was in the late spring into early summer that I would chase butterflies in the open field behind my childhood home. As if chasing the lazy days of summer away, I would run for hours beneath the cotton-candy sky, trying to grasp the beautiful winged creatures that, like confetti in the breeze, would elude my grasp. Like many destined for the cocoon of change, I had no idea the fate I shared with these unusual creatures. Nor did I consider how similar the change process that preceded their impromptu dance with the wind is to our own. The beautiful butterfly of late spring, with its vibrantly colored, shimmering wings (telling of its individual transition story), is an excellent specimen to show how change actually occurs in the lives of people. Four different stages mark its metamorphosis: stage one, the egg; stage two, the caterpillar (the feeding stage); stage three, the pupa, or transition, stage (recognized by the cocoon of silk); and then finally stage four, the adult, or reproductive, stage (the stage most people think of when they think of butterflies). For the most part, the full-grown butterfly only lives about two to three weeks; the rest of its time is spent “in between” change—eating, growing, and in transition. Like in the case of the butterfly, we don’t go from one state or experience directly to another. We don’t experience an end and then immediately begin again. Instead, every change event is comprised of three phases: (1) an ending, (2) an in-between, and (3) a new beginning. We can’t just jump from point one (an ending) to point three (a new beginning). People need something to help them bridge the gap between the two experiences. Transition—the awkward phase between an ending and a new beginning—becomes that bridge. It becomes our point two. In this space, we work on accepting what has changed. I wish I had understood this concept when I experienced an end to the quality of health I had become accustomed to in terms of how I knew my life to be. Understanding the change process of endings, the neutral zone of the in-between, and launching anew would have saved me a lot of frustration and mental deliberation. If I had known that change didn’t happen for me simply because something in my life had shifted or due to an external change event like what I experienced with my health, I believe I would have adapted to my new circumstances more readily and avoided the feelings of being lost in transition altogether. Nevertheless, after discovering the battle I was having with illness was caused by a combination of the sickle cell trait and alpha thalassemia disorder, I said, “Okay, Barbara, you’re going to need to make some adjustments in the way you care for yourself. No more hot soaking baths now that you know that the change in body temperature can trigger a ‘crisis.’” This was how my hematologist described the severe pain attacks associated with the disorder that had disrupted my customary way of being. Travelling might be a little tricky. No more multiple, connecting, or long flights. These were the culprits of the paralyzing effects I would experience after traveling—again, effects of the blood disorder. And I had to watch everything else since, according to my doctor, almost anything could be a trigger. These crises could be torture physically and emotionally. But with time, I discovered that accepting what had changed would be the greatest adjustment. I’ll never forget the trauma of being stuck in San Diego for over a month after a set of back-to-back flights. I took this sky trip from several West Coast cities before I really knew what I was dealing with as it pertained to the sickle cell and alpha thalassemia conflict that was derailing my health. I didn’t know at the time the effects that triggers like connecting flights had on my body: not being able to walk soundly without assistance, shortness of breath and throbbing headaches, and, most adversely, the chest pain that had me seeking medical help from a cardiologist while in a faraway city. The physical suffering faded, relatively, into the backdrop of my mind as psychological pain pressed toward the forefront, especially since the diagnosis and my getting stuck in a distant city all happened at the turn of the year. Tom had to leave me in San Diego to return home to Philadelphia since we both agreed that he needed to preach at our church’s New Years’ Eve meeting. So, here I was, sitting in the bedroom of the Sheraton Marina Hotel in San Diego, a facility in the past known to me as a serene and beautiful getaway spot, alone, crying off and on in my pillow, and pondering how my life could have taken such a heinous turn. My tranquil retreat had become a cocoon of sorts. I was going through a metamorphosis on the inside that represented what was occurring in my life on the outside. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was in the beginning of a change process. It wasn’t good enough to know that some dynamics in my health had changed. Emotionally and psychologically, I wasn’t there yet. I realize now that I needed to transition internally to what had changed. The point I am making is that transition and change are quite different, although it’s difficult for most people to recognize this. Just think about how we use the words change and transition. People swap the two all the time. Doesn’t this mean they’re the same? To your question, I would have to say, “Not at all.” Swapping “change” for “transition” has become a new trend in our communications. Saying, “I’m in transition,” is a cool way of saying, “Things are changing.” Swapping the two out like this only reinforces the notion that transition is change, though it isn’t. Have you been guilty of using the words interchangeably? I know I have. This inaccuracy only adds to the confusion, leaving a whole lot of people with the idea that the two words are synonymous when, in fact, they are not. William Bridges, bestselling author of the book Transitions: Making Sense of Life Changes, does an excellent job of bringing out the difference between change and transition. He says that change is the shifting of events that impact the state of one’s affairs: Change is your move to a new city or your shift to a new job. It is the birth of your new baby or the death of your Father. It is the switch from the old health plan at work to the new one, or the replacement of your manager by a new one or it is the acquisition that your company just made.1 Do you see the difference? Change is situational, while transition is psychological.2 I’m sure I’m not alone when I say, “I’ve made the mistake of thinking about transition as an event,” when, in reality, it is the inner reorientation and redefinition that we go through to integrate change into our lives.3 Case and point, consider the call of Jeremiah. He talks about how the word of the Lord came to him and how God told him that he had formed him in the womb, set him apart, and given him the assignment of a prophet to the nations (see Jeremiah 1:5). Jeremiah also explains how that scared the bejeebers out of him. Jeremiah wasn’t there yet. He understood what God was saying. The situation was real to him. But internally, he hadn’t aligned with the role of prophet. Jeremiah’s response is similar to many of ours as it relates to God’s plan for our lives. Jeremiah calmly answers, “Ah Sovereign Lord … I don’t know how to speak” (Jeremiah 1:6 NIV). He probably thought, God, you must be talking about Jimmy from Tuscaloosa. I don’t care who you are, when faced with the choice of becoming who God says you are and doing his will, there is a sense in which you feel insufficient for the job. As it was with Jeremiah, we think, What in the world are you talking about, God? You can’t mean me. You must know how inadequate I am. Completely aware of the enormous task ahead (the wickedness of the nations around him and his weakness), Jeremiah replies, “I am only a child” (Jeremiah 1:6 NIV). In his attempt to reorient Jeremiah to his true identity, God says, “Do not say, ‘I am only a child.’ You must go to everyone I send you to and say whatever I command you” (Jeremiah 1:7 NIV). Do you see what I mean? It took more than an external change event—God telling Jeremiah, “You are a prophet to the nations.” Jeremiah had to reorient on the inside to this new way of seeing himself. I’m sure God’s comments helped. But for sure, some actions and counter reactions had to happen on the inside before Jeremiah could accept this new reality. Transition is Adjusting on the Inside to Change
Like Jeremiah, the challenge most have with transition is realizing that there is a built-in need for people to adjust on the inside to external change events if they want change to really stick. And thank God for it. Can you imagine what would happen if we accepted, as a fact, every notion or thought a change event may put forth? It would be a circus: lions, elephants, and dancing girls. You name it; we’d have it. Life would be overwhelming to say the least. People experience an enormous...